Take Your Time
by I.Dream.Of.Hardyz
Summary: "I don't wanna steal your freedom, I don't wanna change your mind. I don't have to make you love me, I just wanna take your time." Sometimes being there for someone in their darkest days can lead to some of the most beautiful things. Song Fic/Few Shot to Sam Hunt's Take Your Time. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a few shot, based off the song "Take Your Time" by Sam Hunt. I've been wanting to write something Auslly related for it for a WHILE, and I didn't want to base it off the music video, which deals with abuse. I thought this was a little bit more... interesting. Anyway, as of write now, I'm aiming for three or so chapters, but that could change as I write it. I hope you all enjoy this. Dedicating this one to Kathy because she loves Sam Hunt, and loves this song as much as I do. Thanks for the constant inspiration, girl. I hope you love this. :)**

 **Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

* * *

Austin is bartending the first night she comes in. It's a relatively slow night for their usually swamped bar, but even if he had a string of people begging for drinks, a bar fight happening in front of him, and some wasted, annoying girl babbling in his ear, he would've noticed her. It wasn't because of _that_ , either. The girl just had a way.

He nearly drops the bottle of expensive vodka he's holding, then contains himself and picks his jaw off the ground. He loves the simple dress she wears, hates how she seems freaked out of her own skin. The bubbly Latina girl she came in with is already leaning against his work-partner Dez, giggling in his ear. He knows her name somewhere in the back of his head, but can't be bothered to worry about that now. He must get back to—

She's gone.

In the matter of seconds, the short and curvy beauty has disappeared in the crowd.

He attempts to get back to work, but he feels as if he's been in some kind of dream and maybe he imagined her. He knows better, he knows she exists. He's seen the papers. But that doesn't mean that she's really there.

Shut up, Austin. You need sleep.

He shrugs. Maybe he does. They probably both do. After all, he was the one first on the scene that night.

 **Take Your Time**

The next weekend, he and Dez are off and are frequenting the own bar they work in. Kind of dumb, especially when the same loose girls also frequent it and he can't refuse a drink because he isn't working. He takes one shot with the blonde who always tips him well and then excuses himself. He doesn't want to be rude, but he just isn't interested. She's nice, but not his type.

Dez is with the Latina girl again, and they're definitely making some fast moves in the corner. He ponders if he should even go back to their apartment that night, or if he should try and crash with Dallas or one of the other guys from the station. He doesn't want to walk in on any kind of sexual act. And he needs sleep tonight. He's due for his next shift at 10am tomorrow.

So, why is he at a bar when he's not bartending and has the night off? He's kind of pathetic. He knows it. But he was hoping the fiery Latina would bring the quiet girl again. She hasn't shown her face yet. He doesn't think she will. After all, who goes to a bar after going through something like that? He wouldn't. He definitely wouldn't.

At about one, he tells Dez he's heading to Dallas' and tells him the apartment is all his. His friend grins ear to ear, though pats his shoulder in sympathy and that ends that.

 **Take Your Time**

Austin can handle stress well. After all, he works two jobs. After all, one of those jobs is an EMT. He's seen it all. More than he'd like to, honestly. But he's got hopes that one day, when he finishes med school (someday), that it'll be good on his resume, and he does like the idea of helping others. Bartending just brings in the extra money. Still, he's seen more than his fair share of horrifying things for his lifetime. But they still haven't stopped talking about that night.

She's still the town's figure piece in gossip. Some are saying she's going to lose it.

End up in the psych ward at Miami General.

He thinks it's kind of cruel, seeing some of the firefighters placing bets, but he doesn't stop them. After all, half of them went to school with her. He didn't. He only moved to Miami in the last couple of years. He can't stop grown men from talking shit.

It wouldn't matter anyway, would it?

They're called out a few minutes later anyway, when there is a pile up on the interstate. Nothing serious, just a few broken bones and bruises, but of course, they're needed. He's glad for the excuse to get his mind off everything, and throws himself into his job.

He forgets where he's headed on the ambulance until he's there, and he sees her behind the counter.

How is she back at work already? It seems too soon.

He'd probably be back right away, too. It would be too much to sit at home and dwell on all that happened. It would drive him mad. Maybe they do have a connection, or maybe he's just crazy. He signs the paperwork necessary to release the patients to the hospital and he's almost out the door when a soft voice stops him. Austin is more than surprised when he turns on his heel and she's standing there in her soft pink scrubs, hands in the pockets, looking about two feet tall.

Her eyes are huge, full of fear and sadness and he feels for her immediately.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," he croaks out, not ready for this at all. He dreamt of seeing her, talking to her on several occasions since it happened, but none of them played out like this. He's a bit ashamed to think about where a few ended up in his head. But those are locked inside of there, and she doesn't know that.

"Thanks," she answers, simply, and nods to another nurse. The older woman fans her hand dismissively, and they walk outside into the blazing Miami sun. He's got a few minutes, since the ambulance is still releasing another patient from the accident. He notices her stare at the red vehicle, and then turn toward him so she doesn't have to see it.

This puts the sun into her eyes. She squints up at him, and he realizes he towers over her. He doesn't remember her name, because he wasn't the lead EMT on that night, and he only did the second in command stuff. He wonders what it is. Maybe an Amy. Or a Cassie. A Bree? He looks down and notices her name badge for the hospital. Allison.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she startles him quietly. "I just wanted to thank you."

"Thank me," he repeats, as if this is some sort of weird thing. Of course he knows why, but he's kind of hoping for anything that will keep her out here, because he's so curious about her. He won't admit he's been dreaming of her or anything like that. Because that's weird, and he doesn't want to freak her out. So, he remains silent until she adds to her first statement.

"You kept me calm that night," she continues, glancing toward the road when sirens go off, and another ambulance comes wailing in. He sees her tense, fold her arms over each other and tries to focus on what she is saying. It is hard for her, and he can't blame her for it. He's used to the painful sounds of an ambulance, and most of the time, from inside he cannot even hear it anymore. To her it must sound like it is a bass machine, blasting right into her ears. She struggles to keep focused, and he watches her stumble.

It is only seconds before she hits the ground that he catches her, and her eyes flutter a bit. She doesn't quite pass out, but she's definitely far from stable in her breathing.

He doesn't want to make a huge scene and scare her further, but he's already attracted a slight audience. "Allison?" he asks, tilting his head closer to hers. "Hey, can you hear me?"

"Brett?" she whispers softly. "Is that you?"

He shakes his head, not sure what that means. "My name is Austin, Allison. I'm an EMT. You wanted to speak to me." He says this slowly, because she's definitely dazed. "Can you hear me?"

"You had me so scared," she murmurs. "I thought I lost you. I thought…"

The older nurse that released Allison before comes running out, probably having kept an eye on the girl for the last few minutes. She glances at Austin, who is cradling the tiny nurse in her arms and he gives her a fleeting look of worry. "She just collapsed. I don't think she's coherent. She keeps calling me Brett."

The woman curses, "Let me get a stretcher. Are her vitals good?"

Austin hadn't checked. He puts his fingers on her neck, and this makes her turn her head toward him. Her eyes are glassed over, not from passing out, but what he realizes are tears. "Brett," she murmurs again, "It was so scary. There was so much blood…"

The older nurse returns with the stretcher, and this garners Ally's attention. Her body goes rigid in his arms, and then she wails like someone struck her with something. In seconds, she's trying to get away from him, scrambling on the filthy sidewalk toward the bushes, begging with her colleague to get away, get away, get away. Austin is more than alarmed at this point and knows that the young girl is far from being with them mentally.

He glances toward her friend. "Put that somewhere so she can't see it."

"I don't understand," the woman states. "She uses these all the time!"

Austin realizes something. Next to him, in the mess of what was happening, the sirens were still going off. People are bustling around… it resembles that night. It reminds her of what happened. She's convinced she's living it all over. "Put it away!" he shouts, giving her a dirty look. "Just get it out of here, damn it!"

The nurse doesn't argue further, pushes the stretcher back into the hospital. Austin rushes over to Allison, and alerts a bystander to give him some space. He notices she's a bit more alert now, shaking with her hands covering her knees. She's mumbling something, something he can't understand and it's heartbreaking when she glances up at him, tears streaming down her face. Austin realizes she's fully aware of what's going on.

She whispers, "I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! Thanks for the love. :) I wrote this out of writer's block, and right now, it's the only thing flowing in my head. It is very cryptic, and I know that. I am leaving little hints in the writing though, and I hope you guys pick up on them.**

 **Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

* * *

He doesn't get to stay long after that, pulled away by his EMT duties. He does help her off the disgusting ground, get her inside (out of the limelight of the stupid audience outside—people have no idea how rude they can be) and in an unused examination room. She's rubbing her arms, eyes still glassy with years when his colleague shouts, "Moon! We're out of here."

He looks at her apologetically then states, "Is there anything I can do before I go?"

The young nurse just smiles feebly, "I'll be okay. My co workers will be back within the next few minutes."

He wants to say they don't seem to understand what you're going through, but he doesn't. Instead, he lays a fleeting hand on her shoulder, gives her a similar smile, and skirts out the door.

He doesn't see her for two weeks after that.

 **Take Your Time**

He's back at the hospital exactly two weeks after that day, with a burn patient in his ambulance, riding next to them while trying to ignore the smell of burning flesh. You shouldn't drink and play with gasoline kids. It'll end up permanently scarring you for life.

Literally.

The kid is still babbling incoherently as they unload him, hyped up on the alcohol enough to not quite feel the pain and he rolls his eyes, exiting the unloading area and entering the ER. He finds her over one of the exam rooms, chatting with another young nurse. He sees her pause, seeing him, studying him as he chats with one of the other frequent nurses. If he were honest, he didn't remember her before… that. He was there at least once a shift, too.

He kind of hates himself for it.

She excuses herself like last time, waves him down.

Austin has no idea what to expect.

"Must've been a quite few weeks in Miami," she jokes. "I haven't seen you."

"I haven't worked that much," he admits. "I am trying to get back into med school."

"You want to be a doctor?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

He ignores the slight blush that comes on his cheeks. He knows he doesn't look like a med student, especially when he's at the bar, but the EMT uniform has to do something for him, doesn't it? Austin squirms under her stare, knowing he has to answer eventually. He's got his own skeletons that he wants to remain hidden, so he just nods. "Yeah."

"Interesting," she says. "That's nice, though. This… what you do is good practice, yeah?"

"Yeah," he repeats.

Why is it so awkward? He has many conversations with her in his dreams at night, and in those dreams he's almost as close to her as he has been previously, even if not like how they are placed in his subconscious. But in reality, being around her, he doesn't want that. He's not that pushy, he doesn't have an agenda. He just really likes the smile she's so careful to show now, the pale then rosy cheeks that show up every so often. She's kind of angelic and he needs that in his life.

"I'm Ally," she states, and he supposes that makes sense. Allison seems a bit too hard for a name for her. "I don't think we've ever actually been introduced properly."

"Austin," he says back. "Moon."

"Can—are you off soon? I get off my shift in a few. Maybe we could grab an early dinner. I really do want to thank you…" she trails off.

Austin doesn't want t push her, but he knows what she means. He's careful when he nods, and smiles a little when she's relieved. She brushed some chestnut colored hair out of her eyes, reaches for a hair tie and smiles a tiny one for the second time in their conversation. He feels lucky. "I'd love to," he tells her.

"Great." She hears someone call her name, as does Austin, and he's got paperwork to fill out on the drunken burn victim. He realizes he'll be on the ambulance back to the fire station so he motions to her pocket where an iphone can be seen. "Right. I guess you need my number."

They exchange numbers, and Austin leaves. He doesn't admit he takes an early leave and goes home after the paperwork is filled out. He showers, tries to wash the stench of ambulance out of his nose and looks in the mirror. He's got circles under his eyes, dark ones that remind him that he doesn't often sleep well at night. When he's not bartending, he lies awake and stares at the ceiling, haunted by events of his past. He wishes he could scrub them away.

It's a little after six when he gets a text from Ally. She's careful in how she types and she requests a place only a few miles from his apartment complex. He's quick to reply and agree, then goes back to staring in the mirror. He knows she feels like she owes him something for that night, when in reality she would've latched onto the first person to come her way. Somehow, he feels she sees him as a superhero, her savior maybe.

Or maybe that's his ego pushing through.

He's no superhero.

If that were the case, he wouldn't be standing in that mirror.

The small restaurant isn't packed when he arrives, and he's unsure of how to go about sitting down. He doesn't see Ally, and the hostess has not received her name, so he sits and waits for her. He checks his phone, just to confirm he's in the right place and is assured when he knows he is. He doesn't frequent this spot; it's a little above the guys at the station, and most of his buddies from the bar just pick at whatever's left over from their patrons. It's pretty, delicate; it fits the young nurse.

It's almost seven when the server asks if he's still waiting on someone and only then does he realize that Ally has still yet to arrive. They were supposed to meet a half hour ago. He glances at his phone, seeing no new messages and brushes the man off. Maybe she's running a bit late.

He doesn't worry about it, and orders a soda.

It's seven thirty when the game comes on and the place comes to life. It's the weekend, after all.

Ally does not show up by eight, and Austin is not sure what to do. He doesn't want to accuse her of anything, because honestly, he does not know her, and this wasn't his idea. He knows that she probably has some great explanation for why she did not show, but he sends her a worried text anyway, asking if everything is alright.

It's nearly eight thirty when he shows up in front of … that house, is more surprised when he sees lights are on inside.

He kind of figured no one would stay there after that.

He checks his phone for a text a final time, and then walks up to the door.

He doesn't know how he ended up here, but he figures maybe it's meant to be.

Does he believe in that kind of thing?

Maybe. Probably not.

Definitely not.

He glances into the window. The house is neat—almost perfect but he doesn't see anyone. The living room has a small TV against the wall, and a fish tank with a nightlight on. It's kind of—actually, it's very creepy to stare into a girl's home because you're subconsciously worried about her, when you barely know her. Because she cried into your shoulder one night, whimpered and clutched onto you and you can't get her out of your head now. It doesn't make it all right. It just makes you a creep.

There is the sound of glass shattering and Austin stumbles back in alarm, eyes wildly searching for the source.

The last he checked, the scum was behind bars.

Had he gotten out? Maybe that is why she didn't show.

Austin bangs on the door, probably a bit too loud.

Inside, nothing moves. Not even the fish. Austin holds his breath, waiting for some sign. He sees something out of the corner of his eye, a flash of ombre hair and pale skin. She's peeking out from behind a wall, and Austin releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. He knocks again, this time softer, while stating who he is. Ally comes out from beside the all, and he sees blood on her hand, covered by a dish towel.

She steps in front of the door.

She doesn't open it.

"Are you okay?" he asks through the glass, trying to keep himself calm.

She stares down at her hand. A few tears fall from her eyes. The door unlocks, and he is allowed inside.

"I'm sorry."


	3. Chapter 3

**I love you guys. Thank you for all the love, again. We're looking at two more chapters after this. This has the most info in it yet, but I'm curious to hear your theories about what happened.**

 **Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Do you know what it's like to lose a part of you?"

Those are the first words she speaks after finally opening the door and allowing him inside. It takes him a couple minutes to calm her out of the panic mode and bandage her hand. He finds a candle on the floor in the living room, glass shattered into a million pieces. It's next to the TV, also cracked and it makes him wonder what was on it for her to freak out so badly.

She doesn't tell him about that. She simply asks that question while she picks her tea bag up and down, while stirring it with a spoon at the same time. It's a loaded question, one he's not sure he wants to know the answer to having seen that, and yet, he knows that his answer is yes, yes I have.

But he's not ready to share that information.

And it's just not about him.

He looks up in alarm, still not sure how to answer and she just sighs.

"It's been two months today," she adds after a moment. "I stopped by the cemetery. I got him flowers—I'm not sure if boys even like flowers." A frown appears onto her face and she stares at him quizzically. "Would you have liked flowers? I didn't get roses. They seemed too out of place. I got lilies. Orange and yellow ones. Not the smelly ones either. I could hear him complain about that if…"

She trails off, face showing horror.

It's like she makes herself relive her nightmare without meaning to.

"Did you go to his arraignment?" she questions. "Wait. Don't answer that. You're not a cop. Why would you?"

Austin doesn't want to admit he did. He wanted to see the bastard pay.

Except, Ally is doing all the talking, and he feels like a moron.

"I hope he never gets out," she says quietly. "My mom always said its bad to wish suffering on someone, but I think maybe this time it would be warranted."

 _Definitely_ , he thinks.

"She was religious," she adds. "My father, too. We lost them the year after I graduated. It's our house now," she says, motioning to the house. A frown appears again. "My house, I guess."

He's still silent, and he feels stupid. Some comfort you are, Moon.

"I shouldn't be telling you all of this," she murmurs, looking more upset. "I just wanted to thank you, I've managed to screw that up twice. You could've just left before, never looked back. You could've showed up to the hospital in the coming weeks, avoided my gaze. I would've eventually gotten the point." She finally takes a sip of her tea, which has stopped steaming for some time now. She looks up at him, with the saddest eyes. "Why didn't you?"

He finally finds his voice, "I thought you could use a friend."

That's how it starts. He tries to check in on her once day. If it's not at the hospital, it's at the house. He still doesn't understand how she still lives in it, and marvels one afternoon that they got the blood out of the floor there. He doesn't ever question how. And if it's not at the house, sometimes it's for coffee. Ally oddly seems most at peace in the house, again something he doesn't understand, but he doesn't question anything. He doesn't have that right.

She usually makes tea, waits for it to get cold before she drinks it. Sometimes there are baked goods on the table and he'll help himself to one. She does most of the talking. If it's a bad day, he gets there and she's kind of a mess. By the time he leaves, she's smiling best case scenario, or at least no longer staring at that room with those damn doe eyes.

They never have to talk about much. She never brings him up, and he doesn't dare.

There are open ended questions, ones he wonders if he's really supposed to answer.

A part of him wonders if he annoys her, by not answering. Most of the time, she just changes the subject before he can even formulate something appropriate.

It's a Tuesday afternoon when she makes a quiet proposal. He's fixing something in the bathroom, a leaky faucet for her. He didn't even know how that worked. She's telling him it's been doing that for years on and off. Usually they just got duct tape.

It's out of her mouth before she realizes it. A laugh escapes, "Brett was not a handy man."

They both freeze in the small bathroom and he straightens, trying to see what saying his name means to her. She pauses before looking down at the pipe, still remnants of the last attempt to fix it there and then smiles. It is probably the most genuine one he's seen on her face in months, and so he smiles too. "I think I've got some duct tape in my car," he suggests. "I could look."

Ally nods, still staring at the wet, leaky pipe. "Okay."

Because it's the only thing that seems right.

He goes out to the car, finds some in his backseat buried under gym clothes he hasn't washed in months, and comes back inside to her standing in the doorway of that room. She whirls around, like she forgot he was there, and he sees her trying to brush away tears. He doesn't say anything, and she looks at him. "Can we take a ride?" she asks.

They're on the road a few minutes later (after he puts some more duct tape on the leak) and he allows her to lead him wherever they're going. He's more than surprised when they show up at the cemetery. She kills the engine and takes in a shaky breath, turning to him and questioning him more with her eyes than he never knew was possible.

"I'm sorry. I should've told you where I wanted to go."

"It's okay," he says seriously. He'd probably follow her everywhere. It's sort of become a thing now.

"This is the only place I can still be close to him."

"I understand."

She smiles at that, not the one from before, and gets out of the car. They're walking a short distance then come to a shady part of the land. There is a large tree just off to the side, not too far from where she stops. Ally practically crumbles in front of a stone, and her fingers caress it with the softest touch. She peers up at him. She repeats the question from a few weeks back.

"Do you know what it's like to lose a part of you?"

Yes. I do. I really do, he internally answers, and externally just shakes his head. It's just not about him. Ally sighs, shaking her head too. She's remained strong up to now, and he gives her credit.

"He was more than my brother," she murmurs. "He was my twin. They say that's a special kind of connection. One that cannot be lost." She pauses, staring at his stone. Brett Dawson. The grass hasn't even grown back beneath her. "If that's true, why do I feel this way?"

He wishes he had an answer.

There are tears freely falling down her face again, and he feels useless.

Ally sobs, "I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

**I finished this at 5am this morning because I woke up with a horrible stomachache and couldn't fall back to sleep. So, here's the second to last chapter. Thank you for all your reviews and theories. Some of you are very close. :)**

 **Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

* * *

He doesn't hear from her for a few weeks after that. He shows up at her house a couple times, sees a light on but she doesn't answer the door. She takes time off of work, and the nurse from that day outside tells him not to take it personally, but he can't help but worry. Going to the coffee shop they frequent by himself just makes him feel pathetic, and he realizes just how much he's relied on her in those past few weeks that she has him.

He thinks about her bartending one night, thinks about all she's been through, and all the little things she's shared with him. He's learned a lot about her and he's grateful for that.

He just wishes she wouldn't shut him out.

To his surprise, she comes into the bar that night with Trish (who is now with Dez and its just weird) and comes up like she's done something wrong. She's apologizing for something she doesn't have to, and finally, she just relaxes into a bar seat, much to the chagrin of a busty blonde to her right. Ally either doesn't see the dirty look she's being given, or just doesn't care.

"Can I get something to drink?" she asks, her voice quiet.

He hasn't seen her drink before, even on those nights before they became… whatever they are when she was being dragged her by her slightly insane friend. He doesn't know what she's looking for, so he motions to the wall of liquor behind him, "What would you like?"

"You're the bartender," she teases with a smile. "Make me something good. Something… strong."

It's out of his mouth before he realizes, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Ally gives him a fleeting look, "Yes."

So, he does. She drinks the mixture he makes her, just a tad sweet, in less than two minutes. She places the glass down in front of him and requests another. Austin has no idea what her alcohol tolerance is, but isn't about to lecture her about how to drink when she's a fully functioning and capable adult. So, he gives her another.

She's had four by the time he can see she's clearly close to, if not drunk already.

A lightweight, which doesn't surprise him. She's all but one hundred pounds probably, and from what he can see, doesn't drink all that often. The busty blonde got up disgusted a few minutes before, clear that she wasn't going to win over him by batting her false eyelashes and pulling her dress down more and more. He's too concerned about Ally, anyway.

She's requesting another drink.

He's careful when he says, "How about a soda? Or water?"

She eyes him with the most pathetic angry look, something a puppy might try to do in order to show he's tough. It's pretty much comical, but he doesn't want to laugh. Something tells him that she's tougher than she looks, and he doesn't want her to take a swing, or something of that nature.

"I want another," she slurs, and Austin knows he's got a duty as a bartender to cut someone off when they've had enough. Even if she hates him for it, he tells her no.

She tries to get up, storm off, but only makes it a few feet before stumbling to the floor.

He thinks he's won until she nails him in the face, fast and hard.

Then collapses again.

Like he said, a lightweight.

Dez looks up in alarm from where he's standing with Trish, who is about to hurry over when he puts a hand up, signaling that he's got it. He motions to Dez a symbol, one that means he's leaving and to cover for him. Ally is mumbling half-assed threats and he smiles because she's absolutely adorable angry. He carries her bridal style out of the bar, and to his car, where he situates her in the backseat, body facing down so that she could rest.

He gets her home with only minutes to spare before the room starts to spin and she declares she's going to be sick. He helps her into the bathroom (where the sink is leaking again) in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet, groaning the entire time.

It's like this for a while, and Austin fascinates himself with trying to fix the leaky sink in-between holding her hair up and rubbing her back. Then, she collapses against the wall and groans, "I'm never drinking again."

"I was kind of surprised you did," he admits.

She sighs, "It's been a bad few days."

He doesn't answer, but nods in a way that allows her to continue.

"Mandated therapy," she explains. "The guy is a twat."

He snorts, surprised that she uses that kind of language and waits for her to continue.

"I am not getting help there," she growls. "I'm getting told things. He says I'm too this, or I'm too that. That I'm suffering from PTSD and that I'm doing this to myself. I need to let go, move on. Who says that? Doesn't he get it? I can't just move on. I lost the only person I had left."

Austin feels horrible for her, but she's not done.

"He told me to sell this place and get rid of any reminder of him. It'll be the only way to help myself. I told him I felt helpless, scared most nights. I can't sleep because I'm afraid that I'm going to wake up to … that standing over me again. That this time, he's not here to protect me. This time, it's going to be ending up on the floor. Violated."

Austin swallows, remembering coming into the house. It's a horrible picture, one he'd love to erase.

This guy does sound like a dick, but he doesn't have to say that.

"He doesn't know how it feels to feel helpless. You know what he did? He threw me a cocktail of prescriptions, and asked how I'd be paying for my visit this month. I left."

Austin grows angry. Who allowed this kind of dick to practice?

"I'm tired of feeling helpless," she whispers.

He doesn't answer, only places a hand on her shoulder.

She's sobbing again.

"I'm sorry."


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm impatient. I love you all. Thank you for the kind words. I hope this lived up to what you wanted. And if you're like me, you probably want Sam Hunt to take your time, but instead, I'm just writing stories about it. Haha.**

 **Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

* * *

He knocks on her door the next afternoon, and stifles a laugh when she's got sunglasses on, holding a bottle of water larger than her head. She ignores his amused expression, and lets him in. She goes to put the tea kettle on, but he stops her and shakes his head.

"We're not staying."

"We?" she questions.

Austin nods, "I have a surprise for you. Get dressed, pop a few Advil. You're going to need it."

She wants to be apprehensive, but he's pleased when she doesn't ask anything further and goes to change out of her pajamas and into something more suitable for the outside world. He waits in the kitchen, gets bored and wanders into the living room. It's like looking through a time capsule and in a way, looking into a side of Ally that she doesn't often talk about. Her parents are in the majority of the pictures and so is he.

He picks one up. It's probably close to twenty years old, as she's about two or three in the picture. She's got her arms around her brother in what resembles a chokehold, but they're both smiling ear to ear. He looks happy and innocent, completely unaware that in two decades he'd die protecting the tiny girl on his right.

She clears her throat and is standing in the hallway, and he drops the picture like he's been caught doing something wrong.

"He always loved that picture. He claims it was the first time I tried killing him," she jokes.

He laughs. "You do have quite the hold on him. That's good."

"That's good?" she laughs, shaking her head. "I don't understand."

"You will," he adds, and motions to the door. "C'mon. We're going to be late."

He brings her to a gym, and he's pretty sure the look of confusion and slight fear is enough to make him double over in laughter. She stares at him with an open mouth, and he just shakes his head, kills his engine and motions for her to follow. He's grateful for how trusting she is with him.

They enter the gym, and he skips past all the lines and people, stopping before they reach a door. He's careful when he says, "Do you remember the other EMT from that night? His name was Jace."

"Yes," she answers, closing her eyes. "I do."

"He teaches a few classes here in his spare time. I got him to pull some strings. He's waiting for us."

"What? No offense Austin, I don't really want to work out."

He smiles, "It's not… exactly a workout."

He opens the door, and Jace is standing there with a similar smile on his face. He waves tentatively at Ally, probably a bit worried that maybe they weren't going to show. He knows he's got to explain. "You said you felt helpless last night," he replies to a look of confusion, "And that the twat you were seeing wasn't helpful. Jace is certified in more forms of fighting than I can list, and some I can't even pronounce. He's going to show you the best self defense skills you'll ever need. I already know from experience you've got a great punch, so I'm sure you'll excel here."

Ally blinks back tears, "What?"

"It's all free," he adds. "Jace and I figured something out, don't worry. You'll never have to worry about protecting yourself after this."

She's staring at him with the most awestruck expression and then she just shakes her head. "I'm sure he's got things to do, so let's do this. I'll deal with you later," she teases, and Austin raises his eyebrows. She turns to Jace. "Show me all you've got. This is awesome."

He excuses himself, and goes to grab some lunch for the two of them to share at the nearby park when she's done with her first lesson. He gets some tea made up, making sure that he places it in the shade of his car so that it's cold by the time she drinks it. He also picks up some of her favorite cupcakes from local bakery, lemon ones, and waits.

She exits the gym a few minutes later, sweaty but smiling and he's so damn happy that she looks happy. Fulfilled, refreshed. Like she can take on the world. That is what he wanted, after all.

"That was incredible," she breathes out as she enters the car.

He just grins, "I'd ask you to show me what you learned, but I'd like to be able to head into work tonight."

She laughs. "Where are we going now?"

"To celebrate," he declares.

He takes her to a quiet spot where there is a tree and throws a blanket onto the ground, emptying the takeout from the bag, each item one by one until they're ready to eat. He sees her eyeing it all, and watches as she crumbles before him. For some reason, unlike the other times that she's cried in front of him, broken down, this time is different.

It throws him back to that night.

 _There is a call on the emergency line for help a few blocks away. Two people, one badly injured. The guys all hop into the ambulance, wondering what kind of thing it was this time. They don't often get the full details until they arrive, and this time, the person who answered the call says the less hurt one was a bit of a mess, and it was a struggle to even understand what happened._

 _They arrive within five minutes, and the police and first responder are already there. He goes inside and sees no one at first, but a lot of broken things. Glass, pots… there are things everywhere. The first responder and officers who got there first are standing in front of a door that is closed, pleading with whoever is on the other side._

 _"Please let us in," the officer states. "Miss, we are here to help you. We've already taken the man into custody. We were told you need medical attention."_

 _He doesn't hear a response._

 _"Miss?" the officer tries again. "I know this has been quite the ordeal…"_

 _There is a high pitched wail, followed by pleading gibberish, and the cop breaks down the door to reveal a young brunette and a male who doesn't look to be responding. In attempts to help the more wounded, the cop and first responder practically shove her out of the way. She stumbles backwards into the corner, eyes wild and soaking wet with some kind of horrible emotion he never wants to experience, even though it's familiar._

 _The other EMT is on top of the male, performing CPR. It's only then does he see the mass amount of blood._

 _He tries to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach and walks over to the female, who is just staring at them work on whoever that is. "Miss?"_

 _He is about to ask if she's been injured, he's bent over so that he can hopefully not scare her when she flings herself forward, into his arms. There is blood coating her hands, practically up to her elbows and she's got a deep bruise on her forehead, and a nasty gash next to it. The bed is practically destroyed to her right, and there is a broken lampshade beside it, still attached to the wall somehow. A large, full-size mirror that probably once covered the closet is shattered on the floor._

 _She sobs into his chest for what seems like hours while they try to save the man beside them. Its a few minutes in reality when they declare him and begin the process of removing the body. In the meantime, he hears the cop say we need to get the story, but the girl doesn't budge out of his arms even when the cop prompts her. It's only when they ask him to go back to the ambulance does she eventually break off, looking like she may never function on her own again._

 _The next morning, he learns from his buddies there was a man in the cop car already. He broke into the house, for what they aren't sure, and attempted to take advantage of the girl. When she awoke from her bed, her brother came into the room. There was a struggle, in which the brother took the lamp and shattered it over the man's head, then threw him into the mirror. It was only then did the intruder reveal that he had a knife, using this to gain the upper hand and stab him a horrifying ten times._

 _He bled out on the scene, later finding that one of the stab wounds had completely severed a main artery._

 _There was nothing they could've done to save him._

"He would've loved you," she says, bringing him back to the present, and he realizes he's been staring at her with probably a horrified expression for quite some time. She's munching on the food, looking more at peace than he's seen her in a long time.

Screw the guys at the station who placed the bets. Screw the people and what they thought. He's looking at a girl who has survived hell and made it back.

"I never understood why I felt connected to you, but I'm glad I did."

He smiles, "Yeah, me too."

"Thank you for everything, Austin," she adds. "I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for you."

She's quiet for a moment.

"You never answered me when I asked that question a few weeks back."

Ally asks a lot of questions, so he's not sure which one she's talking about. "I don't know which one you're referring to," he admits.

"I asked if you ever lost a part of you. You never answered me, but I've learned to read your expressions well and there is something that tells me the answer to that question was a yes. Maybe that is why I was drawn to you, and no one else." She tilts her head. "You understood on a level that no one else did."

She's right. It amazes him that she's able to read people that well.

He knows she deserves to know, so he figures it would be a good time as any to tell her. He lifts up his shirt, revealing a tattooed name. Grace. His little sister, only five years old when she was ripped from his life. She was everything to him. She was born sick though, with a disease without a cure. They told his parents when she was born that she wouldn't live to see her first birthday. He smiles at her stubbornness. She made five of them, you bastards.

She lived with pain every day, but he never once saw a day that passed in which she didn't smile.

Didn't love.

Didn't enjoy.

She lived up to her name in every sense of the word.

She was with the angels now.

He tells her all of this, and she just smiles.

"She's with Brett," she answers. "He's with her."

"Yeah," he smiles back.

Austin is quiet. He hasn't spoken of her to anyone outside of his family since it happened, and it's been ten years.

He doesn't admit this.

She doesn't have to know.

Ally leans forward. She's got tears in her eyes, but she's still smiling.

A little broken, they both are, but somehow they're okay. They will be.

She studies him with such a beauty, he's reminded that she's more than what happened to her. They have a connection, one that he's so glad to have.

It happens quickly and he's so shocked by it, it takes him a moment to react.

She kissed him.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't be."


End file.
